


Save Me a Dance

by tracingdandelions



Series: Bumbleby Week 2019 [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 10:30:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19828288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tracingdandelions/pseuds/tracingdandelions
Summary: Day 1Atlas Ball





	Save Me a Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully I actually keep up with this? Fingers crossed, cuz I know this one is already going up late .-.

The band had been little more than background noise for quite a while. Slow lilting songs that kept the dancers close and swaying. A sea of monochromatic blacks and whites and silvers dashed with accents of crimson or deep blue swirls below. Ruby puts a hand on Crescent Rose as the band strikes up a quicker tempo and the guests react accordingly. The speed picking up to a tumultuous pace as the practiced ease dissipates and exuberance takes its place. She sighs and leans back against the rafter she is perched on, content to watch until a scratchy sounds startles her.

“Ruby this is Weiss, I am in position”

Ruby regains her composure and rolls her eyes, “We have code names for a reason you know!”

She focuses her sights on Weiss down below. A speck of white and crimson stationed near an exit. Arm extended as she greets someone in a finely tailored suit, coattails trailing the floor. She relaxes as another voice chimes in.

“Yeah Icee, Rubix Cube this is team Bumbly checking in.”

Ruby closes her eyes for a second, both amused and exasperated with her teammates, before she replies, “You know what forget codenames, let’s just get this over with.”

She turns her head and searches for the black dress and gold suit of Blake and Yang, she finds them by the bar with what she hopes are non-alcoholic drinks. She needs her team with a clear mind. Yang tilts her head just slightly and flashes Ruby a smile and a small thumbs up. Everything seems alright, the band returns to a slower song, giving a gentle respite to those a little winded. Her team has her back. The night is going well. Everything seems alright, until it isn’t.

A large tremor shakes the building and Ruby braces herself, readying Crescent Rose and training her sight to the main entrance. Confusion swells through the crowd, cresting into panic as the room shakes again, this time from the impact of something large. In her position, Weiss takes control of the situation, her voice piercing through the chaos as she directs the mass through emergency exits near the rear of the building. 

Another impact almost sends Ruby hurtling the 50 or so feet to the ground. The lights flickering as the hinges on the grand doors groan from the weight pressed against them. From the corner of her eye she sees that the majority of the guests are through the doors, but there are more stragglers than she would like. She trains her weapon back on the front entrance

A shot rings out as the first shadowy hand breaks through the door. Yang looks up from her drink just as the door collapses and several skeletal Grimm make their way through. She glances at Blake and flashes her a smile, hand extended, “May I have this dance?”

Blake can’t help but smirk, a light blush on her cheeks as she takes her partner’s hand, “Of course.”

The pair make their way to the middle of the ballroom where Ruby had dropped to help Weiss, the two facing off against a large Beowulf that had charged the few remaining guests. They turn just as several griffons lead by a manticore swoop in and nod to each other before taking off in opposite directions. They quickly dispatch several griffons and are about to join together to tackle the manticore when the building shakes again. Debris falling from the ceiling as a flight of large ape like Grimm crash through the rafters, wings bent to hasten their descent.

“Ruby, what the hell are those?”, Yang calls out, a flailing Grimm in her hands.

“Beringels”, she manages to get out as she removes her scythe from the back of another beowulf, “But it looks like they have wings? Be careful, I don’t trust this.”

Yang turns back to the large winged Grimm. This wasn’t part of the plan. Sure beowulf and griffons are simple enough, even a manticore. But flying beringels? She charges ready to figure out just how strong these new Grimm are. She gets in close and fires a few rounds into the chest of one, recoiling to see the damage. To her dismay the Grimm stands unfazed, staring her down. She sprints forward determined to get a hit in when she hears her name called out, then a loud cracking sound, then nothing.

The world goes black, a faint buzzing sound starts in the back of Yang’s head. Growing louder and louder until it resolves into the crashing sounds of a fight. Steel against bone. She vaguely remembers the dance, the Grimm, her team fighting. She groggily sits up and looks around, a blur of red and white to her left. She glances to her right and her mind snaps to attention. She remembers now, just before the impact, Blake had thrown herself in front of Yang. The two were sent flying into the wall.

Turning back to the Grimm responsible for the crumpled form, Yang called upon the strength she had left and sent it into overdrive. Her watery lilac eyes taking on a deep crimson as she strides over to the beringel, this one much larger than the rest. It turns, eyes a fiery red like her own. She charges again, this time prepared for the swing. Using its momentum she launches from its fist and fires round after round towards its head. It reaches up to swipe at her and she jumps, avoiding its grasp as she returns for another hit. This time she lands on its shoulders, she draws back with all her force and punches it in the back of the skull. Another crack rings out as the beringel stops and falls to its knees before finally slumping over.

The fighting stops at the loud thump. The Grimm now weighing the odds of victory. A few more fall before they regroup and sound the retreat, the ragged few barely making it out of the doorway.

Weiss and Ruby take chase, taking out as many as they can before they get out of range. Yang stands once more and sprints back to Blake, still curled on the ground. Her eyes search her face and she gently takes her body into her lap. Her once black dress now a tattered fabric coated in dust and blood. Yang holds her close, tears falling from her eyes. There’s a moment before a shuddering breath racks Blake’s body, and then a fit of coughing. Yang holds her closer, relief flooding her body as Blake cracks an eye open.

Her voice is raspy and too low for Yang to catch exactly what Blake says. 

“What was that again?”

Blake catches her eye and manages a wink, “You still owe me that dance.” A small laugh escapes her and she almost immediately regrets it. Lungs burning from the coughing fit that follows.

Yang laughs, and slowly sits her up, “Of course, but maybe later”. Careful of her injuries, she stands and lifts Blake into her arms and regroups with Ruby and Weiss.

It’s several weeks before Blake is released from the hospital with strict instructions. Her team had been in and out in those weeks, but Yang had stayed by her side consistently. Opting to sleep on the small visiting couch. But she was now free to return to their accommodations in Atlas, a small apartment with two bedrooms and a small kitchen and living room. The first night back was too quiet. Her team stepping around her as if she would break again. Though several broken ribs and bruised lungs was not the most pleasant injury, they had endured worse. Dinner went smoother, the four falling back into somewhat of a normal routine before heading off to their respective rooms. 

Blake had changed into her pajamas and was brushing her teeth when she realized Yang hadn’t followed her into their room. She finished brushing and wandered back into the living room to find the furniture pushed against the wall and Yang standing in the middle, hand extended. A slow song tumbles through the speaker of her scroll. Yang reaches further, “May I have this dance?”

Blake takes her hand and they fall into place as if they had done this a hundred times before. Yang is careful to lead, afraid to cause any pain. They stay like that for the rest of the song, Blake’s head resting on Yang’s shoulder, and Yang’s arms draped over Blake. They sway back and forth switching who leads every few measures. The song ends and Yang pulls away to spin Blake with a flourish. Her face lighting up as Blake breaks out into giggles. She sits on the couch out of breath from the impromptu dance and twirl, Yang landing beside her.

“I know it wasn’t some grand Atlesian ball-”

She’s cut off as Blake presses her lips on her own and then smiles, slowly pulling back.

“It was never about that. It was always about you.”

At that, Yang smiles leaning in and pressing her forehead to Blake’s.

“Then I’ll always save you a dance.”


End file.
